


Cowtails

by hit_the_books



Series: Brrrrrr- SPN Coldest Hits [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Sam, Cowboys, Cowpats, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Hitting with Birch Branches, Lassos, M/M, Reality TV, Rope Bondage, Sauna, Swearing, Top Benny, Won't Someone Let Sam Have a Cup of Coffee?, animal husbandry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Cowtails</em> films all year round. Each episode is set on a different ranch and features six cowboys, numbers whittled down over a week as they're put through their paces.</p><p>But just because Sam's an associate producer doesn't mean he's some pushover. Because he's the little brother of the show's co-host: Dean Winchester. Still, this doesn't stop Sam from receiving an embarrassing amount of fan mail all for himself.</p><p>Or stop Sam from fraternizing with Benny. The smoothest cowboy he's ever met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowtails

“Welcome to a dick shriveling 20 degrees on a January Monday morning, and the cold, white expanse of Tyrst Ranch.” Gabriel Novak shuffles to turn from the camera and looks back behind him at the acres of open country covered in snow. Boundary fences are only little black dots on the horizon. Gabriel can barely move in his down stuffed jacket and well padded snow boots.

“We’re in Sublette County, Wyoming, and this is: _Cowtails_.” Dean fist bumps Gabe as he turns back. The sound muted by their thick gloves. Dean also looks like he has the limited posing range of a Ken doll.

Only the experienced viewer would catch the subtle hint of rivalry as these two crazy kids bump fists—it’s all in the twitches of their lips. The rivalry that burns between the two and constantly threatens to spill out into full on bitching. Their eyes are covered by sunglasses.

“CUT!” Yells Castiel and he starts heading for the ranch house, Sam running behind with a thermos cup filled with hot steaming java.

Yep, it is gonna be a long day.  
  


***  
  


The ranch house is surrounded by trailers, SUVs, snowmobiles and a couple of quad bikes. There’s dogs barking somewhere in a barn, and the distant neighing and snuffing of horses can be heard along with the odd “moo”.

It’d all look pretty normal if it weren’t for the TV crew running about in the crisp snow like over stuffed headless chickens. The idjits refusing to use the salted paths that had been cleared for them by Sam and Kevin at the crack of stupid o’clock. Sam makes a point of walking on the pathways he made as he heads for one of the barns.

 _Cowtails_ is in for the week, with a fresh posse of cowboys to put through their paces. Sam’s already had to deal with two breakdowns; a dozen vanilla lattes; five bowls of biscuits and gravy; I’ve already mentioned the salting; stopping the costume department from ordering matching outfits for this week’s contestants covered in rhinestones (you do know that reality TV is staged right and that is has a budget?); 21 irate phone calls with their showrunner; one escaped mare and… the discovery that the ranch owners have a Finnish sauna.

The only thing stopping Sam from going off like a powder keg is the knowledge of this sauna.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the three runners who were on staff hadn’t all come down with dysentery over the weekend. But they’d had to go and eat at some stupid roadside barbeque while on the way to this corner of Wyoming and there was no way in hell that meat was being handled in a sanitary manner. If Sam had his way, he would have hired a couple of locals to help out, but apparently they didn’t have time for that and Ruby asked Sam to stop calling her every twenty minutes. He has pointed out to Ruby that he wouldn’t be calling her every twenty minutes if she’d just find out what the hell has happened to her co-producer Chuck Shurley.

But Ruby kept refusing to acknowledge that Chuck’s prolonged absence was an issue that was putting the show at risk. Chuck was better at saying no to rhinestones, damnit.

Sam may only be an associate producer, a junior role, but he is Dean’s baby brother. If Sammy is pissed, Dean is pissed. Now while Sam is gracious enough to not pull this connection every 10 seconds, he is sick to death of having no help… and of the dozens of fan letters that kept making their way to him every week. He was an associate producer for christ’s sake! He shouldn’t have to handle damn fan mail for himself. No, Dean had not been able to save him from that.

But of course you’re gonna become a social media hit when you have to save a man from jerking off a stallion, sorry, collecting from a stallion. That had happened during one week of filming in June. At a different ranch and all caught in glorious 4K, because this show does have a budget, it just doesn’t spend it on a gazillion rhinestones. But it was classy enough to use fake horse vaginas.

The barn Sam wants finally looms into view and he can hear the sound of the participants getting warmed up inside. There’s six “cowboys” every week. This week it’s: Alastair (fucking creep), Victor (too damn serious), Garth (how the fuck does he manage to hold on?), Benny (someone said he could cook), Cole (an ass but not bad) and Nick (unknown quantity).

Opening a side door, Sam walks in and sees the training arena that’s set-up for use in winter. There’s a huge expanse of sand and sawdust, with this week’s cowboys practicing their roping skills on some wood off cuts. Sam ignores the guys, and walks behind them so that he can pour himself a coffee from the flasks left out on a table for everyone’s consumption. He pulls off his hat and gloves and undoes his jacket a little, so he doesn’t sweat too much and catch a chill when he heads out later. He shakes his short, tufty hair out and tries to decide if he wants sugar.

Six feet from the table, there’s a flash of brown and then a sudden weight around Sam’s biceps that then gets pulled tight. He looks down and realizes that one of the damn cowboys has roped him!

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam starts to turn, face contorted with anger, but he’s janked backwards and falls to the sand and sawdust with a bump. Twisting in this most undignified position, Sam sees that it’s Nick (utter fucking asshole) who’s roped him.

Sam tries to move his arms and remove the lasso, but Nick keeps yanking it tight as he follows the rope back to Sam.

“Looks like you caught a wild one!” Shouts Alaistair, his voice raising the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck. The creep’s mustache was crinkled in a mean smile.

“Mmm, definitely!” Nick agrees loudly, finally coming to a stop in front of Sam. “Such a skittish looking thing,” he drawls, hat covering his blonde hair.

“You two should probably let that one go,” warns Victor and Sam throws Nick a look that promises that is the better option.

“Get this off me.” Sam glowers at Nick for all he’s worth.

“Make me.” Nick remains calm and composed as he holds onto the rest of the rope.

“Fine!” Sam slams down onto his back, ignoring the crud that’s probably getting into his soft, soft hair, and kicks Nick in the balls. There’s no reply from the bastard, just a low pained whine, as he falls to his knees and Sam gets up, finally able to remove the lasso.

Shaking the rope off himself, Sam ignores the stunned looks he’s getting and proceeds to shove Nick down onto his stomach and tie him up. Getting Nick’s arms around his back and legs bent up behind him while he lays on the ground, you’d think Sam was into rope bondage, what with the skill he has and the knots he is tying.

“F-fuck!” Cries Nick and Sam smirks at the bastard, pleased with his handiwork.

“That was your freebie, asshole.”

Nick struggles. “Untie me!”

Bending over and getting in Nick’s red face, Sam grins and shakes his head. “No-pe.” Sam straightens up and finally reaches the coffee.

Rope practice is officially paused for the moment, a low chatter descending, and the sound of Alistair trying to undo Nick’s knots—“damn these are tight”—and Sam thinks he can finally get the cup of hot coffee he has been gagging for since Dean said “ _Cowtails_ ”. Wrong. Benny sidles up to Sam and starts pouring himself a coffee from the flask that Sam had just been reaching for.

“You sure got some skills, how come yer not on the show?” Benny asks in a smooth, Louisiana accent that makes the hairs on Sam’s neck stand for very different reasons to when Alistair had shouted. Benny pours Sam a cup of coffee after his own and hands it to him.

“Uh thanks. Well, I’m an associate producer, that’s why. And I’m also Dean’s little brother.”

Benny leans over and whispers in Sam’s ear. “You don’t look so little to me.”

FUCK.  
  


***  
  


One thing you learn working on _Cowtails_ is that you do not ask Kevin and the rest of the runners how they manage to go around collecting cowpats that are just the right consistency for throwing. And how they manage to get these in the dead of winter. Sam’s never had to do that job and yet it remains a mystery to him. He says he needs 18 cowpats and he gets 18 cowpats.

“Why we gotta throw these?” Garth asks, looking at the three cowpats that have been allocated to him. The guy’s wrapped up in a well lined sheepskin jacket, hat stuck on tight. It’s ten degrees warmer that it was this morning.

Sam looks at the skinny cowboy and shrugs. “Because viewer numbers say we get a 10% spike in eyeballs when you guys throw pat. So, you throw and the advertisers are happy.”

But jerking off a stallion with a fake horse vagina, sorry, collecting from a stallion, gets you an almighty 456% increase in viewers during reruns. Damn sickos. Ruby had suggested that Sam should be made to demonstrate this every week, but Dean had taken pity on Sam and put his foot down.

Garth shrugs and continues to study the pats.

“Well, Sammy, I hope we get down to do some _real_ cowboy stuff soon,” snipes Cole.

Sam can barely control the way his jaw is twitching at someone else using Dean’s nickname for him. “We’re shooting in five, better finish warming up!” Shouts Sam.

Cole turns his back to his pats. Sam lifts a water bottle from the jacket of one of the camera men (it’s not completely ice), unscrews the lid and pours some of the water on Cole’s pats. Returning the bottle without being noticed, Sam smirks and heads off for the sauna.

Somebody’s gotta make sure it’s heating up.

Might as well be Sammy.  
  


***  
  


It takes most of the day to get a proper Finnish style sauna heated right. Sam sets it up and keeps checking in on it as the day’s filming rolls on.

They lose half-an-hour of filming when Cole has to shower and completely change his clothes due to his cowpats having severe structural issues. Kevin doesn’t understand what went wrong and is oblivious to Sam’s smirks. Even Cole doesn’t realize he’s been sabotaged by Sam.

No one it seems, until Benny’s just finished riding an unbroken mare around the indoor arena for their final shoot of the day during their rough rider segment. Gabriel and Dean are just having their makeup touched up and Castiel is deep in conversation with their lead camera man.

Sam’s chasing another caffeine hit and then Benny’s at his shoulder again.

“I know you messed with Cole’s pats,” whispers the bear of a man.

“You gonna tell on me?” And what the hell? He’s leaning towards Benny, letting their shoulders touch.

The smile that curls onto Benny’s lips is half cowboy and full ambrosia (not southern ambrosia, actual ambrosia, y’know, the food of the gods) in one delicious promise that Sam just wants to suck on down. Maybe even have seconds. Thirds.

“I won’t tell on you if you lemme spend a spell with you in that sauna you’ve been prepping all day.”

“Sure thing,” says Sam. And if Sam’s voice is several octaves higher than it would be normally, Benny doesn’t say anything.

There’s movement behind them and then Castiel bellows to the crew and participants, “I am rolling in FIVE! For the winners and losers announcement, I want all of our cowboys standing three feet behind our favorite two idiots!”

“Hey!” Protests Dean.

“Come on people, MOVE!” Castiel claps his hands together like a whip snapping and suddenly there’s shouting and people impersonating headless chickens.

Five minutes means no coffee for Sam, but Benny’s hand gives his ass a squeeze before he gets moving towards where he’s meant to stand. Sam blushes like a schoolgirl and tries to ignore the sensations stirring in his loins.

“Don’t worry Deano, I’m positive I’m the better looking out of the two of us!” Gabe yells loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You son of a—” Dean starts wrestling Gabriel.  
  


***  
  


A quirk of fate means that no other participants or crew have realized there’s a fully kitted out Finnish sauna behind the main ranch house. Some of them think it’s a smokehouse for curing meat, but when Sam trudges inside the room before the main sauna he finds it to be blissfully empty.

Pulling off his robe and boots, he places them on a bench in a small staging area before the main sauna. He can already feel the intense heat radiating through the wood. Naked as the day he was born, Sam opens the door into the sauna.

Naked, sweaty, Louisiana cowboy 12 o’clock.

And Sam had to work with him tomorrow while they filmed the rest of the episode. Face his newest fan.

“Benny.”

“Sammy.”

Sam can’t stop staring at Benny’s huge, naked cock. It’s already half hard and Sam doesn’t care that Benny just used his nickname, because this bear of a man can call Sammy whatever he damn well wants.

The cowboy pats the wooden bench beside him. “You gonna sit down or what?” Benny’s eyes drag down Sam’s body and stop on his half hard cock.

Sam strides over and sits down beside Benny, sweat starting to gather on his skin. The heat is good and soothing on Sam’s muscles after spending most of the day standing. Must feel pretty good on Benny’s thighs after riding that unbroken mare bareback.

An edged silence falls between the two of them. Perspiration beads on their skin and slicks their brows, necks, chests, backs and underarms. Musk mixing with the smell of wood. Real manly like.

Picking up the water ladle, Sam bends past Benny for some water and throws half a cup on the wood stove and the sauna fills with the sizzling of evaporating water. The ladle doesn’t make it back to the water bucket. It clatters to the floorboards as Benny pulls Sam onto his lap and places his cock between Sam’s cheeks. Sam twists and their lips meet.

The kiss goes straight to Sam’s dick the moment Benny opens his mouth. Benny grips Sam’s hips and grinds up against him. It’s teasing and wonderful. Dragging along his hole, perineum and his balls. Sam’s hand hooks up behind Benny, grabbing onto the back of Benny’s neck to hold him in place.

Breathless, Sam ends the kiss and sucks in the hot air. “We need to use the birch,” Sam moans, Benny chancing a hand towards Sam’s straining cock.

“Mmm, you’re right, cher.”

Benny holds Sam in place as he bends and picks up some leafy birch branches.

“How did you even get hold of these?”

Sam smiles and licks his lips. “Doesn’t matter. You want me to beat both of us?”

Benny groans behind Sam and needily grinds against him. Then adjusts the two of them, making sure his cock is well between Sam’s cheeks.

“Stop asking stupid questions.” Benny squeezes Sam’s cock and begins to stroke and grind in earnest.

The fragrant birch boughs start singing across their skin, rhythmically. Leafy knots harsh and sweet. Sam manages to get Benny’s back and a little of his front, before getting his front.

Over and over the short branches snap and sing. Over and over Benny grinds and strokes. They pant together in the warm sticky air. Skin tingling and sensitive. Bodies getting closer to that point of no return.

Benny and Sam come, one after the other, birch snapping against their flesh, cries caught in each other’s mouths. Body almost like jelly, Sam manages to put another half cup of water on the stove and then slides off of Benny’s lap.

“You know,” Benny says as the two of them sit side by side, awash with bliss, come drying in ways it probably shouldn’t, “I walked here naked.”

“Then you’ll have to come back to my trailer, it’s nearest,” Sam says matter of factly.

Benny shifts and puts an arm around Sam. “How’d no one else spot this damn sauna?”

“Hell knows.” Sam leans his head on Benny’s shoulder.

Maybe, just maybe, Sam could make it through the rest of the week’s filming. But…

“Say, what do you think of rhinestones?”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't lose my mind.
> 
> See: <http://angrysouffle.tumblr.com/post/135374175848/january-rules-reblog-this-post-to-enter-your>
> 
> Thanks to [Zeryx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeryx) for her suggestions on this.
> 
> Update: [Damn, second place.](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/137679822410/thank-you-for-participating-in-the-january-2k16)


End file.
